Sketches across blank walls, finding who I want to be
Horizons parting Earth from heaven, searching for a way of life to lead
Paths of life, indirect roads, destinations unforeseen
Unable to erase what’s drawn before, continue forward in search of me
Underwater
Beauty of muted sounds
Movement in slow motion
Above, the sun’s rays reflect on the moment
Leisurely I contemplate joining the conversation
Resurfacing to engage once more
I pause just for one last embrace
Before opening up to the sky at the last moment
Deep gusts of breath fill my lungs
It burns, but in a good way
I feel alive
Stories drawn from bottoms of deep wells
Hands, wrinkled with time, outstretched, lie in wait
Light falling rain, fills gaps, pooling unsaid words
Chords float to the top, unsurfaced mysteries solved aloud
The sun pulls at my skin, penetrating warmth, an embrace
The sound of your voice lulls me to sleep
Who knew before tomorrow was imagined in the sand
That footsteps would erase fears
A hand’s soft imprint appears
Lightly pushing me forward unwittingly
Towards momentum’s outstretched hand
Vapors escape skyward, just out of reach
Parched, a salty taste remains, overwhelming the senses
Shimmering illusions lie at horizon’s edge
Awaiting my arrival, long lost friends
Distance remains, gaps never seem to close
Undeterred, reminders float within eyesight
Mirages existing in the sounds of silence
Something seen, something unheard
Spinning looms, surrender’s harvest
Wax masks melted by the sun
Tattooed confessions in invisible ink
Stained glass windows washed clean
I no longer know who I am
Guilty quiet empty roads, simmering off the grid
Distant parched vistas, pale warnings of tomorrow’s fears
Reflections off mirages return my gaze, real or not, the feelings are the same
Brushing my hand back and forth, they disappear, but cling to my thoughts wherever I go
Fine lines and secret chords
Windmills sing untold stories
Midsummer’s eve listens, not wanting tomorrow to come
Northern waters carry me home
Mat Aru Poetry 